Growing Pains
by electricskeptic
Summary: It's Vince's birthday, but when no-one shows up to his party, he's convinced that turning thirty can never be fun. Howard makes it his personal mission to teach him otherwise. Serious fluff.


**A/N: This is a stupidly long one-shot with an entirely too-dramatic title, given that it's pure, tooth-rotting fluff. Was originally meant to be for Jamie's birthday, since she was the one who gave me the prompt in the first place, but, um... it's a little late. Sorry, hun. Hop you enjoy it anyway.**

**Disclaimer: The Mighty Boosh belongs to Julian Barratt and Noel Fielding. I am not Julian Barratt. I am not Noel Fielding. I've never even _met _them. I don't even know who they are. I didn't even write this. I don't even own a computer... Okay, so I _might _have made some of that up. Point is, it ain't mine.**

**The songs are 'Together in Electric Dreams' by the Human League, and 'This Kiss' by Faith Hill, which may well be the cheesiest song ever, but what the heck. And I don't own those, either.**

- - - - - X - - - - -

Vince sighed and glanced at the clock for what must have been the hundredth time in as many minutes.

"Nobody's coming, are they?" He asked quietly. The others exchanged apprehensive glances before Howard stepped in to console his friend.

"I'm sure they're on their way, Vince. They're probably just being, um… stylishly late, that's all."

Vince looked up at him, all big doe eyes and mussed fringe. "It's _fashionably _late, Howard. And I think two hours is cuttin' it a bit fine, don't you?"

"Um…" Howard winced in sympathy for the other man. He hadn't exactly been looking forward to Vince's 30th birthday party - dreading it, perhaps, would have been a more accurate way to describe the feeling - but Vince had been so ridiculously excited, whirling about the house like a miniature human hurricane, trying on about thirty outfits and talking non-stop gibberish. At times Howard had been tempted to throttle him just for a bit of peace and quiet, but now he would do anything to have that version of Vince back. Anything was preferable to how he was now. Howard hadn't seen him look this crushed since that incident with Lance Dior and the Flighty Zeus. He looked fabulous, in his mirrorball suit with glitter sprayed across his cheeks and his hair coiffured to perfection, but he was all dressed up and nowhere to go. He was like an unwanted birthday present.

Howard couldn't for the life of him figure out why none of the shallow scene kids Vince called his 'friends' hadn't shown up. They all came from pretty much the same mould; they were all photographers, or record producers, or models, or DJs. They all wore indecently tight, bright clothes and an excess of eyeliner, and had artificially-coloured asymmetrical hairstyles. And they all made it their mission in life to attend every party in Shoreditch. Normally, they would break out the God-awful electro music and fluorescent cocktails at every possible opportunity. That they wouldn't bother putting in an appearance at the birthday bash of their much-revered leader was a little odd, to say the least.

"Maybe they just got the date wrong…" Howard tried somewhat lamely. When Vince didn't say anything, he sighed, "Look, why don't you at least open your presents from the rest of us?"

'The rest of us' meant Vince's three flatmates: Howard, Naboo and Bollo. Howard and Vince had been the best of friends ever since the day they first met, back when Howard was a trainee zookeeper and Vince had been a bored teenager with failing grades and a gift for talking to animals. When Howard had learnt of Vince's incredible talent, he'd pulled him out of school and taken him on as his assistant, and they'd never looked back since.

Naboo the Enigma was a shaman who been a kiosk vendor in the zoo where Vince and Howard worked. When the Zooniverse had closed down, Naboo had offered them a room to let in the flat above his shop. Sometimes, Howard harboured the suspicion that Naboo didn't actually like them at all, but he had pulled them out of trouble more times then any of them could remember and was always exceptionally lenient about the rent, so that couldn't be completely true.

Bollo was a talking gorilla who had once been an exhibit at the zoo and was now Naboo's familiar. As far as Howard could tell, that meant getting stoned and occasionally having 'bad feelings' about something or other, but who was he to question the mysterious ways in which magic worked? Bollo was incredibly loyal to his master and doted on Vince, but made no attempt to disguise the fact he thought Howard was an idiot.

Needless to say, they were an odd bunch, but they mostly got by. And at times like these, they needed to come through for each other, which was why Naboo stopped puffing on his hookah long enough to reach lazily round the sofa and throw a small, gift-wrapped rectangle at Vince's head.

"Merry Christmas." He mumbled.

"Yeah, it's my birthday, actually." Vince corrected, but there was a sparkle back in his eyes at the prospect of unwrapping his presents. His smile soon faded, however, when he got the paper off and saw exactly what it was that Naboo had bought him.

"A KitKat." He said flatly, looking down at the confectionery in his hands without enthusiasm. "Cheers, Naboo. I can tell you really made an effort."

"Well, we've gotta economize, you know." Came the sage reply. "Credit crunch, and all that."

Vince's eyebrows furrowed as his nose scrunched up in confusion. Howard felt an almost irresistible urge to smooth the expression from his face, but he quashed it firmly before he could embarrass himself.

"Credit crunch?" Vince parroted uncomprehendingly. "Is that a new type of cereal, or something?"

Naboo just rolled his eyes and went back to his pipe. Bollo's present was equally unhelpful - a magazine of monkey porn and a banana. As for Howard… _shit! _He suddenly realized with a sinking feeling in his gut that he hadn't even gotten Vince a present yet. He had been planning to do it tomorrow, so that his gift would be something special between the two of them, and not just lost amongst the hordes of tacky offerings from Vince's hordes of tacky mates.

Of course, he had kind of been banking on the fact that there would actually _be _tacky offerings from Vince's mates.

"Well, I'm gonna go to bed." Vince announced after a painfully long, awkward silence. Howard could practically _feel _the disappointment emanating off him in waves.

"Are you sure? I think there's a late repeat of 'Colobus the Crab' on -"

"Thanks." Vince interrupted, with the least convincing smile Howard had ever seen. "But I'm actually really tired. I just wanna get some sleep."

"What the hell is going on?" Howard wondered aloud to no-on in particular, still unable to get his head around the no-show from Vince's friends at what should have been the party of the year.

Naboo and Bollo just kept silently puffing away on the hookah. Howard exhaled loudly, forcing the air out between his clenched teeth in frustration. _Some help those two were._

"I'm going to check on Vince." Howard announced to the room at large, as though anyone might actually be interested. Then, with some trepidation, he headed towards the bedroom he shared with Vince.

As a whole, Howard tended to have very mixed feelings about room-sharing with his dizzy counterpart. The space they inhabited was relatively small, though compared to the cramped conditions of their cabin at the Zooniverse, it could have been a suite at the Hilton.

On the plus side, sleeping in the same room as Vince meant that they could have their late night crimping and satsuma-throwing sessions without fear of incurring Naboo's wrath. If he couldn't sleep, he would always have someone to talk to until he drifted off, provided Vince was awake too. Even if Vince _wasn't _awake, it didn't really matter. It helped just knowing that he was there, not that Howard would ever admit to that. And sometimes… sometimes he liked to watch Vince sleep. Not in a creepy way, though that was undoubtedly how Vince would choose to see it, should he ever find out. It was just… Howard didn't know how to describe it. It was _comforting, _somehow.

There were drawbacks, however. Lots of them. There was nothing to stop Vince from cutting his hair in the night, for starters. Vince often stayed up late playing his Gary Numan tapes at full volume. He frequently staggered in at obscene hours of the morning, completely off his face. Some nights he didn't come home at all, leaving Howard stewing in the worry that he'd wind up in some gutter or get beaten to death in an alleyway. The only thing worse than those times were the nights when he came home with someone else in tow, and Howard would be forced to listen to them going at it for hours. The mystery guests were always gone by the morning, and Vince would be sulky and difficult the next day.

Then there was the décor. When they'd first moved in, there had been arguments aplenty about who should choose the colour scheme and general layout of the room. Eventually, tired of having to put up with the constant bickering, Naboo had suggested they reach a compromise, and so they had. There was a clear line that divided their shared living space in half - literally, because the carpet changed abruptly from a light avocado to dramatic fuchsia right in the middle of their two beds.

The walls on Howard's side of the room were painted in an understated beige colour, with a few tasteful posters of the jazz greats dotted here and there. His bedspread was adorned with a Hawaiian pattern not unlike the ones found on most of his shirts - which hung neatly in the small, simple pinewood wardrobe that sat in the corner. The few records that weren't in the living room or downstairs in the shop were filed neatly away for when he needed them (in alphabetical order, obviously). The only objects on his bedside table were a small lamp and his reading glasses, for whenever he wanted to peruse whatever fat detective novel was currently residing in the top drawer.

Howard tried not to look over at Vince's side too often, for fear of getting a migraine. The walls were painted a screaming orange - not that you could tell under the multitude of posters he had tacked onto every available inch of space. The faces of Numan, Bowie, Jagger, Adam Ant, Joan Jett and Robert Smith all looked down on him as he slept, as well as a few of the more modern bands that Howard was sure changed every week. His huge wardrobe was stuffed with so many clothes that they were bursting out of the door and spilling all over the floor, adding to the rest of the mess that came from shoes, records, sweet wrappers, and other things Howard didn't even want to contemplate. His dresser was erupting with various beads, scarves, necklaces and trinkets, as well as a fraction of the make-up and hair products he owned (the rest of it taking up space in the bathroom). He had insisted on having a Middle-Eastern style screen put up around his bed, paranoid about Howard's voyeuristic tendencies when he was 'entertaining'. When the sheet was drawn across, he didn't want to be disturbed. Howard had once rather meanly asked why he didn't just use a red light instead, but Vince hadn't got it. He had also managed to nab the side of the room with the window, so he got to pick the curtains, too - a lovely, subtle shade of lime green.

As Howard entered the room, he saw that Vince was lying motionless on top of his covers, still fully clothed, staring blankly at the wall opposite. He didn't seem to notice Howard's presence as he crept quietly closer towards the bed. Howard could have walked past with a submachine gun, and Vince probably wouldn't have noticed.

"Hey there, little man." Howard began as he crouched down by the side of the bed, announcing his presence. "Um. Sorry I didn't get you a present."

"S'okay." The word came out cracked and barely audible, but at least it was a start.

"No, really. I'm sorry. I am going to get you one, I swear. I just thought that, with the party and everything, you wouldn't have noticed -"

"Do you know why no-one came, Howard?" Vince asked, either not hearing the other man or choosing to ignore him. "Cos I do." He added, before Howard had a chance to reply. "I'm gettin' old. Thirty must be my sell-by date. I've gone off, like soft cheese moulding away at the back of the fridge. None of the Babybels want to hang out with the mouldy old cheese, Howard. He cramps their style. So that cheese just sits there, all depressed and lonely, slowly rottin' away, until one day it all gets too much, an' 'e just crumbles. S'quite sad, really."

Howard looked at his friend in bewilderment. Vince still _looked_ like Vince, and his grammatically incorrect, Cockney-esque drawl definitely still _sounded _like Vince, but that little speech could have been taken directly from Howard's spring/summer collection of self-pitying monologues. He hadn't seen Vince this visibly upset since that little twit Lance Dior had come to town.

"Don't you think you're being a little melodramatic? Thirty isn't _that _old."

"Maybe not for you, Howard, but you know how shallow my mates are. Thirty is retirement age to them. They're probably crowning their new leader already. I bet it's Leroy. 'E's always been jealous of me." He sighed heavily. "Still, least I've still got you. You'll never ditch me, will you, Howard?"

"Never." Howard replied affirmatively. He felt a sudden rush of affection for Vince just then, and touched his face tenderly. "I'm sorry today has been such a let-down."

"S'not your fault."

"Still, I feel as though I should make it up to you. Tell you what, let's pretend that today was just a practice run. We'll make tomorrow your proper birthday. You can do anything you want, anything at all."

"I don't know, Howard…"

"Come on, I insist. I'm going to make sure it's the best birthday you've ever had."

- - - - - X - - - - -

True to his word, Howard found himself getting up especially early the following morning - which, since it was a Sunday, meant half-past nine - to make Vince pancakes. Yes, pancakes. It was proving slightly trickier than he remembered. First, he couldn't find the right pan. Then he forgot to _grease _the pan, and the first attempt ended in a horrible sticky mess. The second one was burnt to a crisp after he abandoned it to answer the phone, and the third wound up pathetically underdone. Still, he was nothing if not persistent, and by the sixth or seventh attempt, he thought he was beginning to get the hang of it.

"Eggs, milk and flour, pancake power…" He hummed to himself as he puttered about the kitchen in Bollo's flowery pink apron. He had no doubt that his flatmate would - pardon the pun - go ape if he found out, but since he'd gone to DJ at Nitro last night once he'd realized Vince's party would be a non-event, Howard doubted very much that the gorilla would put in an appearance until around mid-afternoon.

After over an hour of perseverance, he thought he had a pretty decent batch. Nicely browned but not too crispy, soft and fully intact, Howard stacked them up on a tray, grabbing a bag of sugar and the chocolate and strawberry sauces from the cupboard. On a last-minute whim, he added some slices of fresh banana, to offer at least some half-arsed pretence at a 'healthy option', and then took the whole lot in to Vince.

The younger man was still asleep when Howard entered, looking deceptively small and vulnerable all cocooned up in the duvet as he was. He had, thankfully, gotten undressed at some point last night, though his panda eyes suggested he couldn't be bothered going to the effort of taking off his make-up. Howard grasped his shoulder and shook him gently.

"Morning." He greeted with a smile when he saw the first slivers of blue appear from between his eyelids. Vince yawned widely and gave a full-body stretch before peering up at Howard blearily.

"What time 's'it?"

"Just coming up to eleven." Howard answered with a quick glance at his watch.

"Don't we have to work in the shop today?"

"Not unless Naboo wants to pay us overtime. It's Sunday, Vince." He added, catching the look of confusion.

"Oh."

"I, uh - I made you breakfast." Howard said stupidly, realizing he was still holding the tray of pancakes. Vince's eyes widened as he sat up a little in bed and surveyed Howard's efforts.

"You did this for me?"

"Erm… yeah?" Howard murmured, a little embarrassed now by his own gesture. Fortunately Vince chose that moment to break out into one of his trademark face-splitting grins.

"Aw, thanks, Howard, this is genius! But you didn't have to, you know."

"Hey, I said I'd make it up to you today, and it's a promise I intend to keep, sir."

With that said, he joined Vince on his bed, sitting at the foot of it so that they were facing each other like bookends, and the two of them proceeded to tuck into the artery-clogging feast.

"Hungry?" Howard asked in amusement as he watched Vince tear into his third pancake with gusto. He was still toying with his first. How one man could eat so much refined sugar and manage to stay so thin, Howard would never know.

"Starving." Vince replied, dumping even more sugar onto his plate.

"So, what do you want to do today?"

"Do? Oh, I don't know. I'll probably just watch some TV."

"Vince. You are not 'just watching TV' on your birthday."

Vince cocked his head to one side, as though trying to work out Howard's ulterior motive. "My birthday was yesterday, Howard."

"That was just the dress rehearsal, remember? The real thing is today. In fact, I already know what we're doing. I don't even know why I bothered asking."

"Really. What are we doing, then?"

"We're going shopping, of course."

There was a beat of silence.

"But Howard, you hate shopping!" Vince pointed out. Accurately.

"Yeah, but you love it. Besides, I still need to get you a present."

"Howard, you really don't have to -"

"I _want _to, Vince. Now hurry up and finish eating, or we won't be out the door 'til midnight."

- - - - - X - - - - -

The shopping passed by mainly in a blur, which Howard was thankful for. Vince had really hit the nail on the head when he said that Howard hated shopping. Particularly shopping in London. On the weekend. He hated the constant jostling rush of shoppers encroaching on his personal space, all desperate to find that must-have bargain that would make their lives that little bit more bearable. But it made Vince happy, and that was today's primary objective. Howard had lent the younger man his credit card - an action he was sure he'd regret once he received the bill, but for now it was worth it just to see Vince smiling again. And he'd managed to sneak off and get his birthday present, too. He was planning on giving it to him later.

When they arrived back at the flat, Howard surprised Vince once again by pulling out two brightly coloured plastic Super Soakers, which they then proceeded to fill up at the tap and douse each other with, running around and giggling outside the shop like naughty schoolchildren. Naboo had come out briefly to yell at them, but Howard just pointed out the delighted look on Vince's face and he soon shut up. Not even Naboo was immune to that.

It was now just a little after seven, and Howard could see that Vince was starting to get bored again. He was sitting on the sofa and biting the skin around his nails nervously, a sure sign that something was on his mind.

"What's up?" Howard asked, flopping down next to him.

Vince glanced up. "Nothin'. I just… Nah, forget it. You'll think it's a bad idea."

"Vince. How many times do I need to tell you? Today is about you. So come on." Howard added with a smile. "Spill."

"Okay." Vince looked at Howard nervously before studying his hands in great detail. "I want to go dancing."

Howard felt his heart sink down into his stomach, but he made sure to keep the smile on his face. "What, you mean with your friends? Do you want me to give you a lift in the van?"

But Vince was shaking his head. "No, Howard… I want to go dancing with _you."_

"You - you do?!" Howard squeaked in a very un-manly way. "Vince, I -"

"Doesn't matter." Vince sighed. "I knew you wouldn't think it was a good idea."

Howard decided that he could put up with one night's worth of embarrassment if it made Vince happy. "I was going to say, I'd love to, actually."

"Really?" Vince looked at him slightly disbelievingly, then shook his head and smiled. "Genius. Get ready, then."

"Um… ready?"

"Please don't tell me you though you were coming out dressed like _that." _Vince rolled his eyes dramatically. "In fact -" He broke off to root around in his various bags from their shopping earlier, before throwing one at Howard. "- You can wear this."

"What is it?" Howard asked, eyeing the bag dubiously.

"Oh, I got you an outfit, is all. No need to thank me." Vince added when he caught Howard's look. "I used your credit card, remember?"

Of course he did.

"Now hurry up and get changed."

- - - - - X - - - - -

Howard took a deep breath and looked at the clothes Vince had picked for him all laid out on the bed. Okay, so it wasn't as bad as it could have been. Actually, it wasn't that bad at all. He had been half-expecting some glittering catsuit or a pair of jeans tight enough to render him infertile, but he had gotten off rather lightly. A crisp white shirt and a pair of plain black trousers that were only slightly more stylish than the ones he already owned, combined with a dark green, military-style jacket.

It could have been worse. Much worse. But he still felt slightly self-conscious as he stripped and changed into them. The trousers fit a little snugger than he would have liked, and the jacket definitely wasn't something he'd normally wear. But he didn't want to offend Vince, so he put them on anyway before leaving the bedroom to search for his friend.

"Vince?" He called, wondering where the errant mod could have got to.

"In here!" Came the muffled reply, drifting from the general direction of the bathroom.

Howard reached the door just in time to see it open and Vince step out, dressed to the nines. He was wearing a dusky grey top in some kind of loose, floaty material, which, couple with the extra bit of dark kohl he'd added, made his blue eyes seem to smoulder. He had paired this with slightly shimmery, pale blue skintight trousers and calf-length black boots with a slight heel. On anyone else, it probably would have looked slightly ridiculous, or trying too hard, but to Howard's eyes, Vince would always be gorgeous. He found his breath catching slightly at the sight of his best friend, and he was fairly sure he was gaping. He should probably say something now, before he ended up looking like an absolute moron. Fortunately, Vince beat him to it.

"Wow!" He blurted out, scrutinizing Howard intensely. The older man felt his face flush at the way Vince's gaze was raking up and down his body. "Why on earth don't you wear stuff like this more often, Howard?!"

"What… what do you mean?" Howard stammered, almost afraid to ask.

Vince just smiled mysteriously. "Come and see." He said, then disappeared back into the bathroom.

Howard followed, walking up behind his friend to study his reflection in the full-length mirror. He had to admit, he _did _look good. Vince's taste was impeccable, apparently when it came to other people, too. While the jacket was something he'd never normally even _consider _wearing, it made him seem that little bit taller, somehow, his shoulders that little bit broader. A real Man of Action. The colour made his eyes appear darker, more intense. The slightly tighter fit of the trousers only served to accentuate his long, lean legs. It was almost like looking at another person. Amazing what a simple change of clothes could do to make a difference.

"What are you doing?" He asked nervously, noticing Vince advancing on his with fingers outstretched.

"Sortin' your hair out." The other man replied simply, with a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "If that's okay with you?"

"Oh. Um… is it really necessary?" Not that he really minded. He just wanted to put up a tiny bit of resistance, or Vince might start to suspect something.

"Oh, absolutely." Vince nodded seriously, as though they were discussing politics or world issues. Not hair care. "The outfit's good - _great, _in fact - but you can't let it do all the work by itself, you know? A good hairstyle is the prime staple of anyone's appearance - without it, the rest of the look just falls flat."

"Hmm." Howard 'hmm'ed noncommittally, like he had the slightest notion what Vince was on about. "Go on then, if it means that much to you. But just this once - since it's your birthday and everything."

Vince ducked his head slightly as a boyish grin spread across his features, and ushered Howard over to sit on the closed toilet lid. He then returned to the sink and rooted through his various bottles of lotions and potions before selecting one and coming back to stand in front of the other man. There was a slight pause as he squeezed some of the gel onto his fingers, before working it expertly through Howard's hair, tousling lightly as he went.

Howard, meanwhile, was trying very hard to Not Notice the fact that he was eye-level with Vince's crotch. He prayed to every God he could think of that Vince didn't look at that moment - he was sure he would have been a rather fetching shade of puce. He half-hoped that the younger man would strike up some inane conversation about Gary Numan just to distract him, but instead there was a weird, charged silence filling the space where the words should have been.

And… was it just his imagination, or was Vince taking _way _too long on this? He seemed to be lingering on every individual strand, no longer really styling at all, but sort of… petting Howard's head. Even stranger, Howard found himself actually quite enjoying it, and unconsciously leaned further into the touch. They stayed like that for several minutes, before Howard shook himself out of his reverie with much effort.

"Um… Vince?"

"Hmm?" Vince responded almost dreamily, before blinking hard and shaking himself slightly. "Oh. Um. Sorry 'bout that. You're all done now."

He stepped back, avoiding Howard's gaze, but quickly recovered himself as Howard stood up and went over to mirror again.

"God, Vince…" Howard breathed a little shakily. "What have you done to me?"

Vince let out a long, low wolf-whistle that had Howard blushing furiously. "Check _you _out." He muttered, trying unsuccessfully to fight back a satisfied smirk.

Thanks to Vince's handiwork, his hair was no longer like 'brown smoke' at all - rather, it was what his small, glittery friend might call 'sexily dishevelled'; rumpled in all the right places and hanging down lazily over one eye. Howard briefly considered the idea of hiring Vince as both his personal shopper and stylist, before dismissing it completely - Vince's ego was already inflated enough as it was.

"So, uh… where are we going?" He asked, clearing his throat nervously.

"It's a _surprise." _Vince told him with a cheeky wink, doing nothing to help Howard's current mental state.

- - - - - X - - - - -

The club was certainly nothing like what Howard had been expecting. He had kind of been resigned to an evening of pounding electro music, tacky décor and scantily-clad bodies crushing against one another, but this place was _classy_… sophisticated. There wasn't a single neon strip in sight. The lighting was low, the chairs and tables cozy and intimate. The dance floor was packed with gently swaying couples dressed in smart-casual gear. Howard turned to look at Vince questioningly.

"You like it?" The younger man asked, appearing somewhat insecure all of a sudden.

"Yeah." Howard answered truthfully. "It's… great. How did you know about this place, Vince?"

Vince shrugged. "Someone brought me here on a date a while back. I figured it was the kind of place you'd enjoy."

Howard felt the familiar fluttering of jealousy in the pit of his stomach at the thought of Vince being with someone else, but it was tempered somewhat by how touched he was that his friend had kept this place in mind for him. Though he knew Vince wasn't an inherently selfish person, he did tend to think of himself before others, and his rare moment of thoughtfulness affected Howard probably more than it should.

"You sure you like it, Howard? You're being awfully quiet."

"No, I do, I love it. I'm just having a bit of a hard time imagining you here. I always thought -"

"That I spend my time in sleazy clubs with classless tarts?" Vince finished. Howard winced. It sounded so unfair, not to mention awfully judgemental, to hear it put so bluntly, but that was exactly what he'd been thinking. But there was no bitterness or blame in Vince's tone - rather, he just sounded resigned to the fact that Howard would always look down on him. In some ways, that was worse. He nodded once, almost to himself.

"I do. Sometimes. But sometimes I do something different. Variety is the spice of life, Howard." He added with a wry grin. "C'mon, sit down - I'll get us something to drink."

Howard sat at a free table as Vince sashayed over to the bar, taking in his surroundings. There was a small stage at the back of the space, where a beautiful woman in a long red dress was singing in a rich, husky voice. The tune was smooth, melodic - in fact, it sounded almost like… _jazz? _But no, it couldn't be. Could it?

Shaking his head, Howard returned his attention to where Vince was talking to the pretty barmaid. He watched fascinated as Vince leaned in close and whispered something in her ear. She giggled coyly, curling a strand of hair around her finger. Howard could she the blush on her face even from this distance, and he rolled his eyes out of equal parts fondness and irritation. He would never understand Vince's ability to charm anyone in his immediate vicinity. He should do - he'd fallen for that damn charisma harder than anyone else.

"Penny for 'em." Vince offered, appearing back at Howard's side, clutching two drinks. When all Howard could do was blush and stammer at being caught out so badly, he just shrugged and slid into the seat opposite, grinning widely.

"She fancies you, y'know."

"Huh?" Howard blinked stupidly.

"That girl. She thinks you're well fit. Said you had a dark, mysterious thing goin' on."

Howard looked back over at the bar to see that the girl was now indeed sending flirtatious glances in his direction. He smiled back at her tentatively, immensely surprised when she didn't throw up or run in the other direction, but returned the smile and actually waved.

"Oi!" Vince warned, kicking Howard under the table. "D'you know how rude it is to flirt with other girls when you're on a date? I already told her you were with me, anyway."

Even though he knew Vince was joking, Howard still felt absurdly pleased at his words. To distract himself from doing something utterly ridiculous and embarrassing, he said the first thing that came to his mind;

"Is this _jazz?"_

Vince turned a lovely shade of pink and glanced away guiltily, looking very much like a small child who'd just been caught with his hand in the biscuit tin.

"Um… maybe?"

"But Vince… you hate jazz."

"Actually, um… I have a bit of a confession to make, there. I, uh… I don't hate _all _of it. Some of it's actually alright. Just this kinda thing, though." He added hastily, with a warning look at Howard. "You can keep your Charlie Mingle. That stuff's bloody terrible."

"But why didn't you _say _anything?" Howard asked, feeling a delighted grin creep over his face.

Vince shrugged. "Because I knew it would annoy you. Because you'd never let me hear the end of it if you knew. Because you'd insist on telling me the entire history of jazz. Pick a reason."

"Oh." Howard looked down at the drink Vince had placed in front of him, then jumped slightly. "What the hell is this?!"

Vince had his usual bright yellow flirtini, but Howard's drink was some kind of caramel-coloured, milky concoction.

"Try it. You'll like it." Vince was fast regaining his composure.

"Not until you tell me what it is."

"Where's the fun in that? Just _try _it, Howard. Take a gamble. Don't you trust me?"

_Did he trust Vince? _Howard wondered how on earth he'd ever be able to answer that question in his lifetime. The man sitting across from him was someone who would just as easily save his life or ruin it, depending on how he was feeling that day. Vince didn't appear to have anything that even remotely resembled a conscience - he could ditch Howard for a shiny coat or a group of younger, cooler friends at the drop of a hat, but he had also quite literally gone to hell and back for him, and risked his own life for Howard's time and time again without even a second thought. Asking whether Howard trusted him was an impossible question. Then he decided that he was probably over-thinking matters - Vince only wanted him to try a drink, not scale Everest.

"Of course I trust you, little man."

"Then try the damn drink!" Vince insisted.

Howard regarded the glass suspiciously, then, grimacing, raised it to his lips and took a tentative sip. He could taste something like coffee, with an underlying hint of something syrupy and the sharp burn of strong alcohol. It was better than he's expected - the bitterness of the coffee counteracting the stifling sweetness and the creamy texture easing the sting of the ethanol as it went down his throat.

"That's actually not bad." He admitted, ignoring the smug 'I-told-you-so' look on Vince's face. "What's in it?"

"Um… I dunno. Espresso, maybe… and Bailey's, I think."

It was a good job Howard had finished his mouthful, or he would have spat it all over the table as his brain served up a horrifying reminder of Old Gregg.

"What's it called?" He asked weakly, to take his mind off the hideous mental image, if nothing else.

Vince grinned wickedly. "A Buttery Nipple."

This time, Howard _did _choke, halfway through another slug of the cocktail.

"You all right, Howard?" Vince asked, in between snickers.

"Just fine, thanks, Vince."

They chatted amiably for a while once he'd recovered, about work and the weekend and mutual friends, before lapsing into another strangely tense silence. Vince looked up at Howard with an uncharacteristically serious expression.

"Dance with me." He said quietly.

Howard stared at him in shock, laughing nervously. "Vince, I - I can't dance."

Vince lowered his gaze and worried at his bottom lip before gazing back up through his eyelashes. "Please, Howard?"

Howard looked around, desperately looking for a way out of the situation. It wasn't that he didn't _want _to dance with Vince - he wanted that more than just about anything else, at this moment. He was more worried that he'd make an absolute fool of himself.

"Look… why don't you just go and dance by yourself? I'll sit here and watch you."

"I can't dance by myself, Howard!" Vince complained. "In case you hadn't noticed, it's all couples in 'ere. I'll look a right twat."

Howard _had _noticed that, actually, and he wondered briefly whether Vince had known that would be the case beforehand. It was an interesting point. But not really the issue.

"I don't dance, Vince. I _can't _dance." He repeated lamely, but his resolve was slipping, and the both knew it.

"Sure you can." Vince informed him airily. "Everyone can dance. You just don't know _how _yet. But I'll show you. It's easy."

With that, he stood up and slid from his seat, grasping Howard's hand and pulling him out onto the dance floor. For a moment, Howard simply stood there, feeling just as ridiculous as he'd expected to. He watched Vince come to life almost straight away, swaying his hips rhythmically, arms waving loosely. His movements were so fluid; he made it seem so easy. Howard was mesmerized as the smaller man closed his eyes, hair swishing gently about his face, surrendering himself completely to the beat. He looked completely at peace, as though he wasn't even aware of anything except the music.

After a while, he opened his eyes and smiled up at Howard. "C'mon, don't just stand there; get involved."

Resigned to his fate, Howard sighed and started to move, stiffly at first, almost robotically. He copied Vince's earlier actions in closing his eyes - at least if everyone was laughing, he wouldn't be able to see them - and tried to concentrate on the rhythm. Gradually, he felt himself begin to loosen up; just his arms at first, then his hips, and finally his feet. The music seemed to rush through his veins, filling every inch of his being, and finally, _finally, _he could understand why Vince loved this so much. It wasn't just about pulling shapes and acting cool, it was about letting go, and allowing yourself to become someone else for a while. It was about not caring what anyone else thought, just existing solely for yourself and doing whatever the hell you pleased. It was about dancing as though no-one was watching.

After a while, he felt brave enough to open his eyes again. No-one was laughing. Vince certainly wasn't laughing. He was closer now than he had been before, his large blue eyes fixed on Howard, the look in them intense and unreadable. He looked down and then back up again, flicking his hair, a smile tugging at his lips. Howard mirrored his movements, maintaining eye contact. He felt as though, if he broke that contact now, the world would shatter; they would both simply cease to exist. They were so close now, almost touching. Howard could feel the heat from Vince's body as they moved together in time to the music.

As if on cue, the song finished, melding into the opening of a slower number. Howard almost sighed with relief. This should be easier. Vince tossed his head back and stepped even closer to the taller man, sliding his arms up over Howard's chest and hooking them around his neck. Here, in such an intimate setting, with the music still ruling his senses, Howard felt as though he might pass out just from that simple contact.

"Er." He croaked, in a very unmanly way.

Vince cocked his head to the side, one eyebrow raised. "You _are _allowed to touch me, Howard." He remarked.

Howard's face heated up for what felt like the millionth time that evening, as he awkwardly placed his hands on Vince's shoulders. Vince smiled indulgently, and moved them down so that they were resting on his waist.

"Honestly, Howard, I don't bite." He paused a moment to suck in his bottom lip, looking at Howard with those smoky eyes again. "Unless you want me to." He added, his voice dropping an octave.

Howard felt hot and uncertain. He didn't understand what was happening, here. Unless he was _very _much mistaken, Vince was flirting with him. But why? Had he somehow found out how Howard felt and had decided to have some fun with it? Howard felt a brief rush of anger and humiliation at the thought, but he quickly dismissed it. It didn't seem very likely; for one thing, even Vince wouldn't be that cruel, and for another, he really was quite dim, and Howard had gotten very practised at hiding his feelings over the years. So what was happening? Either way, he decided to just concentrate on the here and now. And right here, right now, he was dancing with Vince. How often did he get this opportunity? He strained slightly to hear the music - though he didn't know it, the tune sounded familiar anyway, as the soft female voice sang the first few lines.

Vince shifted slightly in his arms, sighing happily. He pressed his face into the place where Howard's neck met his shoulder, as they rotated slowly together. Howard felt as though he might just implode from the feelings, the sensations every nerve ending in his body was taking in. How long had he wanted this? How many nights had he lain in bed dreaming of this very moment, and hundreds more besides?

He moved his hands up from Vince's waist, pressing them against his back, pulling them even closer, if that was possible. It was as though he was trying to force every loose molecule of space out from between them, trying to merge them into one complete person. It suddenly occurred to him how anonymous they were here - no-one in this place knew who they were. They would never see any of these people again. There was no need to put on their usual act, pretending to hate each other and ignoring all the tension between them. In some ways, that was all just another dance.

Howard wondered if tomorrow, when they went back to work and this was all just a distant memory, they'd just go back to that old routine. He hoped not. He wasn't sure he could bear it now, not when he knew what he did - he was in love with Vince. There was no denying it anymore - he'd fallen for him; completely, unequivocally, utterly _idiotically_ - and the thought that Vince might not feel the same was driving him crazy.

Improvising slightly, he spun Vince around so that they were pressed back-to-chest. Vince murmured in what Howard could only assume was approval and leaned back against him as Howard's arms wrapped securely around his stomach, holding the other man's slight frame tightly to him. It was a cliché, but they seemed to fit together perfectly, bodies moulding into and around each other. Vince moved one of his hands down to intertwine his fingers with Howard's, swaying gently against him. Howard remembered hearing somewhere that dancing was the most intimate thing you could do with another person, and right now, he was inclined to believe it.

As the song drew to a close, Vince twisted his head around to give Howard the most open, genuine smile he had ever seen from him. The look in his eyes was one that could only be described as utter adoration, and it took Howard's breath away. Vince licked his lips; a nervous, unconscious habit. Was it just Howard's imagination, or were they getting closer together? He could smell Vince's hairspray, and a subtle, underlying scent that couldn't be described but was indisputably Vince…

Then the moment was broken, somehow, by the faint vibration he could feel under his hand as Vince's stomach rumbled.

Slowly, they let go of each other, blinking as they came back to themselves. Shaking his head, Howard arched one eyebrow in amusement.

"Hungry?"

Vince looked down at the floor abashedly. "Sorry. I 'aven't eaten anything since breakfast."

"C'mon then - let's blow this Popsicle stand."

Vince looked at him in total bewilderment for a moment, before bursting into helpless laughter.

"What?"

"You're funny, Howard."

- - - - - X - - - - -

It was properly dark by the time they left the club, and one of those rare nights where the London smog had parted just enough for the stars to be fully visible underneath. They ended up walking halfway across the city to the riverside, Howard forking out a ridiculous amount of money (okay, seven euros), for two waffles complete with ice-cream and chocolate sauce. Not the most nutritional meal ever, but it was what Vince had asked for. After that, they walked for a bit longer, talking about everything and nothing in a way they hadn't done for years, and Howard found himself somewhat saddened when the time eventually came for them to return to the flat.

Once they arrived back home, they stood awkwardly regarding one another in the living room for a moment. Howard felt bizarrely as though he'd just returned from a first date, and was waiting to see whether he qualified for another. He dimly registered the ear-pounding electro beats as Bollo practiced his DJ-ing elsewhere in the flat, but he was barely even aware of it.

"I -"

"You know -"

They both broke the silence at the same time, before breaking off and laughing nervously.

"You first." Howard offered.

"Thank you for today, Howard." Vince said sincerely.

"It was, um, it was nothing."

"No, it was, though." Vince argued. He stepped right up to Howard, giving him a searching look that seemed to lay him completely bare. "You didn't have to do all this for me. And… I never thought I'd hear myself say this, but I'm glad that no-one came to my party. Because I think this has been the best birthday I've ever had."

Howard blinked in shock. And then, just as he thought Vince couldn't surprise him anymore, he leaned right up on his tiptoes and planted a chaste kiss on Howard's cheek, before giving another soft, secret smile and slipping from the room.

Howard stared after him for what could have been hours, one hand unconsciously coming up to touch the place where Vince's lips had made contact with his skin. Then he suddenly remembered that he had yet to give Vince his present, and hurried after his friend.

He found Vince on the roof, arms wrapped loosely around his knees, staring out at the skyline with an uncharacteristically thoughtful expression on his face. Hesitantly, Howard climbed out and sat down next to him. That strange tension from the club was still present in the air, and he couldn't help but be reminded of what had happened the last time they were out here, at his ill-fated birthday party.

"Hey."

"Hey."

Down in the flat, the strains of a familiar song started, and Howard groaned as he recognized the horrific electronic _noise _that was the Human League.

_I only knew you for a while  
__I never saw your smile 'till it was time to go  
__Time to go away…_

"Am I never to be free?" He mumbled theatrically, dropping his head into his hands.

Vince grinned widely. "You know you love it really."

_Sometimes it's hard to recognize  
__Love comes as a surprise and it's too late  
__It's just too late to stay…_

"You want your present now?"

"Howard…" Vince gave a reproving smile. "I told you you didn't have to get me anything."

"Oh, so you don't want it, then?"

"Well, I didn't say _that."_

"Here." Howard reached into his pocket and took out a small, square box, passing it to Vince. With a quizzical look, the other man took it. He opened the lid and was silent for a very long time. Uncomfortably long, in fact. Howard began to fidget, worried he's got it wrong, that Vince didn't like it after all.

_We'll always be together,  
__However far it seems  
__(Love never ends)…_

"So… do you like it?" He asked somewhat nervously.

"Like it?" Vince echoed disbelievingly. "Howard, I… I love it. It's perfect."

He lifted a delicate silver chain from the box. Hanging from it was a small flying-v guitar charm, with three tiny diamonds set in the neck, where the frets would be on a real guitar.

" 'V' for Vince." The younger man said simply.

Howard breathed a sigh of relief. He understood.

_We'll always be together,  
__Together in electric dreams_

"Put it on for me?" Vince requested.

"Thanks, Vince, but I don't really think it'd look so good on me."

"Hilarious. You're quite the comedian tonight, aren't you?" Vince rolled his eyes, but he couldn't quite suppress a smile.

Howard took the chain and leaned in close as Vince held his hair back, reaching behind his neck to fasten the clasp. As he drew back, he couldn't help lingering for a split second, and as he did so such an intense look passed between them that it sent a frisson of electricity up his spine.

_Because the friendship that you gave  
__Has taught me to be brave  
__No matter where I go  
__I'll never find a better prize…_

"I really don't deserve you, do I, Howard?" Vince asked somewhat sadly.

Howard frowned. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well. You did all this stuff for my birthday, which I didn't even _ask _you to, and what did I do for yours? Threw a big party with loads of people you didn't even know."

"Oh… I don't know. That party wasn't _such _a disaster."

Howard was almost painfully aware of where they were; he could almost see that wonderful, awful kiss replaying over and over again in his mind's eye. He wondered what would happen if they were to re-enact it right here, right now, except this time without the threat of decapitation and the Head Shaman looming over them.

_Though you're miles and miles away  
__I see you every day  
__I don't have to try, I just close my eyes  
__I close my eyes…_

Vince turned to face Howard fully. His eyes were so big, they seemed to take up half his face. They were closer now… Howard could smell his hairspray and strawberry shower gel. Forget butterflies - he felt as though he had a swarm of pterodactyls flapping about inside his stomach as the tension between them that had been present all day seemed to peak. The air around them seemed to be crackling with latent potential and static electricity. Vince lowered his lashes, glossed lips slightly parted. They were so close now that their breath mingled together… so close that the ends of Vince's hair brushed against Howard's face… so close that Howard could count every tear that threatened to spill over the brim of Vince's eyelids…

Wait a minute - _tears?_

Howard pulled back sharply to study his friend. To his dismay, he saw that Vince was, indeed, crying, and felt his gut clench in fear.

"Vince…? Vince, what is it? What's wrong?"

Vince sniffed harshly and gave a watery smile, attempting to brush away the errant tears. "Sorry. M'being silly. It's just… that song. It reminds me of when you left, before."

Howard didn't really know what to say to that. He'd kind of assumed that Vince hadn't really been that bothered about his brief stint with Jurgen Haabermaaster, but that clearly wasn't the case.

"I didn't think you cared." He admitted, then winced inwardly at how harsh he sounded. "I mean… you were meant to be going off with the Black Tubes, weren't you?"

Vince laughed dryly. "Yeah… I just said that 'cause I knew _you _were goin'. Didn't want you thinking I'd miss you. And when you came back, I laughed at you and acted like everything was normal. 'Cept it wasn't."

He sighed and ruffled his hair. Howard stayed silent.

"Sometimes… sometimes I lie to you, Howard."

"Why, Vince? Why do you lie?"

" 'Cause it's easier. It's easier to pretend that I don't care, that I don't… _need _you, that I don't want you around. So I laugh, and I make fun of you and do horrible things to you, then go out an' get drunk and pretend it's not happenin'. An' every day I hate myself more and more for everything I do to you, but I don't know how to stop anymore."

"Why not? Why don't you know how to stop, if that's what you really want?"

"Because I'm _scared, _Howard!" Vince exploded, tugging at his hair in frustration. "I've never felt like this before, I've never…"

"You've never what, Vince?"

"I've never been in love before."

Those six simple words were all it took for Howard to feel as though his entire life had suddenly swung into alignment. He felt as though every day, every hour, every _second _so far had been leading up to this moment, this time, this place. Slowly, he reached out one hand to cup Vince's face. Vince leaned into the touch, a sigh escaping his lips. Howard gently stroked his cheekbone with his thumb, rubbing away the remainder of his tears. Tentatively, he pulled Vince towards him at the same time as he leaned closer to the other man. They were really going to do it this time. Nothing was going to get in the way.

This kiss was very different to the first one. Last time, Vince had all but shoved his tongue down Howard's throat in his efforts to convince the Head Shaman of his innocence. This time it was slow, tender, brimming with years of unresolved tension and words unspoken. This time, Howard found that he could actually kiss Vince back, instead of just sitting there like a startled haddock. He slid his hands up to play with Vince's hair, the action producing an odd sort of keening sound from the other man. Vince tasted exactly as Howard would have expected - of raspberry bootlaces and flirtinis and something else unique to _him._

When the need for oxygen finally forced them apart, they stared at each other in disbelief, not quite having processed what had happened yet. Silence reigned, but it was a comfortable one. As if on cue, the music changed, the electronic beats merging into the opening of some cheesy love song.

_I don't want another heartbreak  
__I don't need another turn to cry, no_

Howard snorted, raising an eyebrow. "What the hell is this?"

Vince giggled. "Didn't you know about Bollo's secret country and western obsession?"

"Clearly not. Did you?"

"Well, yeah. It was kind of obvious when I caught him listening to Dolly Parton. He made me swear not to tell anyone, though."

_I don't want to learn the hard way  
__Baby hello, oh no, goodbye_

Howard laughed. "Yeah. I can see why you wouldn't want to go back on that promise. Mind you, he probably wouldn't do anything to you. He'd just crush me."

"I'm sure he likes you really. Erm… _very _deep down."

Howard laughed again, but sobered up quickly.

"I love you, Vince."

_But you got me like a rocket  
__Shooting straight across the sky_

Vince smiled brilliantly. "I love you. I love you." He said it as though he'd never get tired of saying it. "I think a part of me always has, I just didn't realize it. What's that word for when you know something, but you don't know that you know it?"

"Subconscious."

"Yeah… I think, subconsciously, I knew, but it took me a while to accept it. I only knew for sure after your birthday party. But I was worried it was just a spur-of-the-moment thing 'cause it was your first kiss, that you'd see someone else and forget all about me. Then you went off with that girl, and it felt like dying."

"… I'm sorry, Vince. I'm so sorry. I'll won't leave you again, I promise."

"You're damn right you won't."

_It's the way you love me  
__It's a feeling like this  
__It's centrifugal motion  
__It's perpetual bliss  
__It's that pivotal moment  
__It's, ah, impossible  
__This kiss, this kiss  
__Unstoppable  
__This kiss, this kiss_

Howard suddenly noticed that Vince was shuddering violently in his arms. As nice as it was out here, it _was _pretty cold, and he was wearing a jacket. Vince's flimsy top offered very little protection against the elements.

"You cold?"

"Mmm…"

"Come on - let's go back inside."

Once they were back in the bedroom, it was as though some invisible switch had been flipped as they started kissing again, much more urgently this time. Vince curled his fingers through Howard's hair as their tongues tangled together, fingernails raking at Howard's back and shoulders through his jacket. Howard's hands ignored Vince's clothes completely, sliding underneath his t-shirt to caress the bare skin underneath. One slipped beneath the waistband of his tight trousers, eliciting a sharp gasp from the smaller man.

When they drew apart, Vince's face was flushed and sweaty, his fringe plastered to his forehead. Howard could only imagine what he looked like.

"Howard…" Vince panted somewhat breathlessly. "You know we can go as slow as you want, right? We don't have to go all the way. Not that I don't want to… I mean, _fuck, _I want to, I want to more than anything, but… what I'm trying to say is, there's no rush. It can wait."

"Vince." Howard tried to look admonishing, but he was secretly thinking how cute it was to see his usually self-assured, self-confident friend stammering that way. "Please be quiet now."

_You can kiss me in the moonlight  
__On the rooftop under the sky, oh  
__You can kiss me with the windows open  
__While the rain comes pouring inside, oh  
__Kiss me in sweet slow motion  
__Let's let everything slide  
__You got me floating  
__You got me flying…_

They fell backwards onto Howard's bed, its owner lying prone on top of the duvet with Vince straddling him. Clothes were shed slowly as they revealed themselves to each other inch by inch. Howard kissed a line down Vince's throat, as Vince mouthed at his shoulder in an attempt to muffle his whimpering cried. Howard's last thought was that he was finally - _finally_ - about to lose his virginity, before his mind mercifully shut down on him, and he gave himself up completely to the sensation of loving Vince.

_It's the way you love me, baby  
__It's the way you love me, darlin'…_

- - - - - X - - - - -

The next morning, Howard awoke to the sight of Vince's face hovering above his own, a pair of luminous blue eyes peering at him intently from underneath a dark fringe. As soon as he saw Howard was awake, he grinned brightly, showing all his teeth. He somehow looked years younger than he had done a week ago, and… _radiant. _Glowing, even.

"Morning."

"Mm… morning."

They kissed lazily for a while before Vince flopped back down onto 'his' side of the bed. Howard instantly put an arm around him and drew him closer.

"So, how was it?" He asked, somewhat nervously.

"Hmm?"

"Last night."

Howard felt more than saw Vince's smile this time. "I gotta admit, Howard, you were pretty impressive. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you'd done that before… How 'bout you, anyway? Seeing as it was your first time and everything. Was it as good as you expected?"

"It was all right, I suppose."

At this, Vince's nose crinkled adorably, and Howard couldn't resist the urge to kiss it.

"I'm joking, you idiot. It was the best night of my life."

"…Really?"

"Really."

Vince pouted. "You know, it's not nice to tease, Howard."

"I know. I'm sorry."

He leaned over for a long, languorous kiss, hands stroking skin, legs tangling together. Howard sighed. He could get used to this…

Suddenly, the door banged open, and they sprang apart, every bit the picture of being 'caught in the act'. Fortunately, Naboo didn't seem very interested in them, instead focussed on the task of dragging a very sheepish gorilla.

"Bollo's got something to say, haven't you, Bollo?" He lisped in his best warning tone.

"Uh… Bollo forget to hand out flyers for Vince's birthday party. That why no-one come. Bollo sorry."

Howard cringed, waiting for the inevitable explosion, but it never came. Instead, Vince laughed. Three pairs of eyes turned on him in shock.

"Thanks, Bollo."

Howard frowned. Was Vince being sarcastic? Was he simply biding his time, waiting for the right moment to get his revenge?

"Bollo not understand." The ape scratched his head in puzzlement.

"No, really, thanks." Vince said seriously. "If you hadn't forgotten, I wouldn't have spent hours last night having the most incredible, amazing, _mind-blowing_ sex of my life… so thank you."

Howard was sure he was blushing. His face was probably the temperature of the sun. But as Vince turned to him with a grin and a wink, he couldn't help grinning back. And then they were kissing again, and somewhere in the background he was vaguely aware of Naboo's horrified cry:

"Oh, I didn't need to see that!"

* * *

**A/N: Ah... eating waffles by the river is one of my favourite memories of London. It's somewhat ironic how I can remember the exact price of a waffle with 'the works', but I've totally forgotten what coursework I was meant to be doing over the holidays.**

**And I had to get Howard into a military jacket, okay? I just had to. I'm sure the fellow members of my LJ crew will understand the appeal of this.**

**...Also, a 'Buttery Nipple' is a real cocktail. I had it at the Hard Rock Café in America. I can't remember exactly what was in it, but it definitely had Bailey's and coffee.**

**And now I should really try and get some sleep. It's nearly 5am. You see what I do for you? Hardcore fluff... brought to you directly by Bryony's insomnia.**

**Reviews would be lovely  
_-C.V. x_**


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